


Inevitable

by Aaron_The_8th_Demon



Series: A Combination Of Skill And Luck [3]
Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Getting Together, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Investigations, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Undercover as a Couple, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22414900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon
Summary: “The most important thing,” Dale had warned him in the car on their way here, “is not to be surprised by anything. If you behave in a manner that indicates shock or unease, it’s entirely possible that it will immediately blow my cover. So in effect, Harry, you simply need to not be surprised by anything.”Way easier said than done.
Relationships: Dale Cooper/Harry Truman
Series: A Combination Of Skill And Luck [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617793
Comments: 7
Kudos: 70





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> This fic borrows a few things from [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7494843), but since it's not even the same fandom I figured it would be weird to do this one as an inspired-by.

“The most important thing,” Dale had warned him in the car on their way here, “is not to be surprised by anything. If you behave in a manner that indicates shock or unease, it’s entirely possible that it will immediately blow my cover. So in effect, Harry, you simply need to not be surprised by anything.”

Way, _way_ easier said than done, Dale.

Because Harry had agreed to this in order to help out his friend. It means Hawk’s looking after his chickens for a couple days while he’s in Seattle with Dale, it means the station has to get along without him and wonder where he went. There was no way in hell he could explain what was going on to most of them. Hawk knows, because Hawk _always_ knows, but Harry expected that anyway. What Harry didn’t expect was for things to immediately start going the way they did when they got here. Sure, Dale had explained in that cute overly-wordy way of his exactly what would be going on, but Harry’s pretty sure he missed at least half of those words somehow. He mostly understood that he was coming along to provide backup… kinda. Sorta. Not really.

Dale’s investigative target, currently, is a drug trafficking ring… which has apparently been known to meet up and conduct at least some of its more mundane operations out of a gay bar, because somehow local authorities didn’t think to look there. So the FBI put Dale on it, and Dale called Denise Bryson, and now look where they are. The problem, which Denise apparently pointed out to Dale during that conversation, is that if he went there by himself he would be way too busy fending off guys looking to hook up to be able to conduct surveillance.

That’s where Harry comes in.

He doesn’t feel like himself right now. They got to Seattle a few hours early and Dale immediately took him to some department store, where clothes got bought for him that he would probably never wear on his own. Dale put him in what he’s pretty sure is actually a dress shirt that’s supposed to be worn with a tie, but there’s no tie and instead the top two buttons are undone and his sleeves are rolled to his elbows. His pants aren’t quite slacks, but they’re not jeans or work pants and they feel unfamiliar.

What’s almost worse is that Dale doesn’t look like himself, either. He’s completely dressed-down from his usual tidy getup, in a shirt and jeans with no belt and then a battered snapback that has the logo of Philadelphia’s NHL team on the front. (“It has a significant amount of sentimental value, Harry. It travels with me in my briefcase on assignments, I just happen not to wear it often because there isn’t usually the occasion for me to do so.”) He looks like anyone else, anyone at all, instead of Special Agent Dale Cooper… except that he is Special Agent Dale Cooper, and he’s unfairly handsome even while disguised as a common out-of-towner.

Dressed like this, both of them in two different brands of cheap cologne that Harry _really_ doesn’t enjoy the smell of, neither of them are themselves right now. And these two strangers that they’re made up as were immediately offered condoms by the staff when they came in.

Harry had almost lost it right then, but at the last second he remembered he couldn’t be surprised and managed not to say anything. Dale, meanwhile, was his usual charming self and accepted one with a smile. The guy gave Harry a jealous glance right before they walked the rest of the way in, like _look at this man you’ve got, he’s so far out of your league._ (Which is probably true. And Harry hates knowing that it’s probably true. He also hopes to god that Dale isn’t aware of this.)

Another huge problem, in a situation that’s pretty much nothing _but_ problems for Harry, is that he has to be an actor for it. Which he’s not always the best at. So he keeps thinking _don’t be surprised don’t be surprised don’t be surprised_ to himself on a loop, every time Dale touches his shoulder or holds his hand or smiles at him or does any of those million ridiculously attractive things that he would normally do anyway. Which means Harry has to lean into those touches, squeeze his fingers around Dale’s, smile back, and pretend like this all isn’t absolutely killing him. As evidenced by his unshaken friendship with Denise (aside from the brief initial surprise), Dale is extremely open minded and accepting of most people as long as they aren’t the criminals he’s slapping cuffs on. But he’s also never given a single clue that he’s interested in other men.

It’s bothered Harry ever since about seventh grade - he liked looking at girls, yes, but he liked looking at boys too. Which was (and is) kind of an unmanageably big issue. And he likes Dale. He likes Dale way more than he really should, he’s liked Dale for probably the entire time they’ve known each other but he didn’t start to realize it until a little while ago. They’ve been friends for a couple years, now, because they made friends right away. Harry has a rule for himself about this: he doesn’t date friends, and he doesn’t date coworkers. They’re not technically coworkers anymore, but they were for about a month, and that’s enough that he has two very good reasons (ignoring the piles of other very good reasons) not to pursue Dale.

Which is why he’s sitting here now, kicking himself for agreeing to help this investigation. Harry should’ve stayed home in Twin Peaks where he belongs, instead of poking around this place with its obvious sex agenda drinking drinks that don’t actually have alcohol in them because he needs to stay sharp. And the whole time he’s still getting lots of envious looks from single patrons of this bar, because Dale’s still gorgeous in a t-shirt and an ugly baseball cap with a team logo nobody probably recognizes and drenched in bad cologne.

“See anything suspicious yet?” Harry murmurs, leaning up to Dale’s ear to ask.

“Possibly,” Dale answers, just as soft. “I’ve made visual contact with at least two unusual-looking guests who seem uninterested in the culture of this establishment. Both seem to be idling, but in opposite corners of the room… I believe they’re waiting for a contact and wish to not draw attention to themselves in the interim.”

“What kinda drugs, Coop?”

“The usual suspects - cocaine, heroin. Once I’ve gathered a substantial enough amount of data Denise will step in and take the remainder of the case out of my hands. Given her personal situation, I thought it would be unreasonable to force her into this environment, and she appreciates my assistance in… there he is.”

“What?”

“The third man, their contact.” Dale looks… slightly distressed, following the movements with his eyes. “Harry, I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but in short order you might find yourself in a situation that’s at least somewhat uncomfortable for you.”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“Currently, they’re entering a section of the establishment that requires an additional fee to access, and… more illicit behaviors occur there than here in the public area.”

Harry swallows and prays that Dale doesn’t notice. “So what did you mean by ‘uncomfortable for me’?”

“Judging by your reaction I’m going to surmise you’ve ascertained for yourself what the answer is and you want me to say that your assumptions are incorrect. Unfortunately, they’re not.”

Harry swallows again, harder this time, and rubs a hand over his fluffy hair. “Okay. And we’re about to follow them so you can watch or listen to what they’re up to.”

Dale nods. “Yes.”

This is bad in so many ways for him. If they go back there, where all kinds of men are going to be kissing and groping and maybe even having sex with each other, Dale will end up kissing Harry probably. And then Harry will have to kiss him back. And then Dale will know. But Harry doesn’t date friends, he doesn’t date coworkers, and he doesn’t date other men no matter how much he wants to sometimes because his job is an elected position and the town will riot if they find out that he’s not normal. So Dale will know, and Harry’s job could stop belonging to him, and maybe even his life and safety will be in danger.

But he promised he would help, and part of why Dale was put on this case is because some of these drugs come through Twin Peaks on their way to Canada or vise versa.

So Harry copies Dale’s nod and swallows a third time. “Okay. Let’s go.”

And there’s a warm palm pressing into his as they head that way, their fingers twining together. Dale’s got really nice hands, probably as strong as Harry’s are but a lot less rough. Dale’s got no concept of personal space and touches people a lot anyway, but until this evening they’ve never held hands before, and Harry feels guilty knowing he’s going to want to remember this for a really long time after they get back home.

Dale coughs up for them to go into the back, and it’s like walking into a porn except somehow even more shameless. There’s a central space and then some private rooms, with men scattered around doing anything and everything from kissing to having threesomes with each other. Harry’s already ashamed of himself because he knows he’s going to remember a lot of details about this for later, too.

They get there quick enough to catch the last of the three perps disappearing into one of the rooms at the back, which are thankfully closed off by curtains and not actual doors, so Harry guesses that Dale will want to get right up next to the one the possible crooks are in so he can just have his ears on everything they’re doing. A gentle tug on Harry’s hand, encouraging him to go exactly that way, confirms it.

It ends up with Dale leaning back against the wall by the doorway, and then this: “Kiss me, Harry.”

Harry panics. “What?”

“If I stand here like this, people will become suspicious,” Dale whispers hurriedly. “If you’re kissing me, they’re much less likely to notice the tape recorder I’m going to be holding beside the curtain.”

“Coop-”

“Harry, it’s extremely important for you to cooperate. I’m sorry that I have to ask you for this at all, truly. But it’s necessary.”

Harry got kissed by another boy once when he was in school. He tries to remember how that felt like, and it actually probably makes it easier than pretending like he’s about to kiss a woman instead, because the last woman he kissed was Josie and it would be really unhelpful for him to think about her right now. So Harry closes his eyes and reaches all the way back, when he was fifteen (sixteen?) years old and it happened almost completely by accident. He’d been expecting it even less back then than he was just now when Dale made this demand.

This is, from what little he can recall, not the same thing.

For one thing Dale is only an inch shorter than him instead of several like that boy was, so there’s no uncomfortable positioning in his neck. For another, Dale elected to have five o’ clock shadow for this surveillance mission, which isn’t as unpleasant as Harry was expecting. Dale tastes like something fruity that should’ve had liquor in it but didn’t. Also, the brim of the damn snapback hitting his forehead until it gets nudged far enough up that it’s out of the way. And right away Harry realizes he’s also trying to convince himself that it’s _not_ Dale that he’s kissing, that this isn’t real, because maybe then it won’t be so awful when it has to end.

That doesn’t really work, though.

Because Dale tugs Harry closer by his belt so that he’s more or less pressing Dale to the wall, and most of Harry’s rational thought gets thrown out. He lies to himself and says it’s to help their cover that he puts more of his weight into Dale, sandwiching his friend against the paneling. It takes all of five seconds for Harry to transition from fear to wanting to undress Dale and nail him against the wall right here (never mind the fact that Harry’s never actually done that and wouldn’t have a clue where to start). And Dale… responds. If Harry didn’t know better, that it’s just acting because Dale has to go undercover and be other people sometimes, he would’ve been tricked into thinking Dale’s actually enjoying this. Hell, he almost _is_ fooled, even understanding what’s really going on here. And Harry chases that. He pretends that it’s actually supposed to happen, that he gets to have Dale and they’re not at work right now.

There are fingers in his hair and his hands are on Dale’s waist. He’s starting to sweat under his nice new shirt and he sucks breaths through his nose. Harry almost forgets that they’re in the middle of something, because god _damn_ Dale’s a good kisser and all the spots where their bodies touch, even through clothes, seem like they could catch fire.

Harry doesn’t even realize the footsteps on his right are their perps leaving until he hears the soft _click_ of Dale’s tape recorder getting shut off, and he snaps back into place, remembering where he is and what he’s doing. Their foreheads rest together and they breathe each other’s air, recuperating. Harry feels ashamed of himself again, but it’s a lot worse now than it was before he did… this. If it was anyone else but Dale here, Harry’s pretty sure he’d be at the very least getting smacked across the face for this, and he’d deserve it. He _does_ deserve it. He’s not supposed to chase friends or coworkers or other men in general.

“I have everything I need,” Dale mutters finally.

“Okay.”

Neither of them move. Harry’s pretty sure he’ll shatter the second he does.

“Harry.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s alright, we can go now.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

So Harry moves, and miraculously he doesn’t end up like that jam jar hitting his grandmother’s floor when he was six and climbing on the counter to get it like he wasn’t supposed to. But he feels broken anyway, kinda like when Josie died but not quite as bad. He doesn’t date friends. He doesn’t date coworkers. Dale’s another man and Harry shouldn’t waste his time even thinking about this right now.

Dale pays the tab and they exit the bar. In a way, Harry feels like he can breathe again, and maybe they can just leave the last ten minutes behind. But then they get in the car, and Dale doesn’t turn the engine right away but instead grabs the steering wheel and stares blank-faced through the windshield at nothing in particular.

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry can’t look at Dale anymore after that. “Me too.”

They don’t say another word to each other as they drive back to their hotel.

The first thing Harry does is get in the shower - the damn cologne has to go, first of all, but in a much uglier sense it almost feels like he’s trying to wash Dale off of himself as if that can make things okay again. (It can’t. Dale knows, now. Their friendship is irreversibly changed and possibly even damaged after what happened tonight.) He stands under the water for about half an hour before finally stepping out onto the mat to rub himself dry, and after a few more minutes he’s back in jeans and a flannel like he should be when he’s not in his work clothes. Harry almost feels like himself again.

Coming out of the bathroom, Dale’s sitting on the end of the bed that’s next to the window, speaking to Denise over the phone and detailing everything he just heard by rewinding his tape recorder and explaining that yes, he’ll turn it over as evidence as long as she omits certain brief parts that may appear in the audio at the beginning from her report. He’s still dressed in not his own clothes, ugly Flyers cap and all, looking vaguely distressed in a way Harry’s never seen until now.

Harry sits on the bed that’s closer to the door and rubs his face with both palms. He knows Dale’s gonna make him talk about what happened, but he’s not ready for it and he wants the conversation with Denise to last at least another two hours so that he has time to come up with a way to explain himself to his friend.

Dale promptly says goodbye to Denise and hangs up.

“Harry, I’d like to apologize.”

“But you already did in the car, Coop.”

“Yes, but… I also need you to understand why I’m apologizing.” Dale’s hands fold in his lap. “I had hoped the situation wouldn’t call for that type of ruse, but I should’ve anticipated it and planned accordingly. Due to my lack of competence, I forced you into a scenario where you were very clearly uncomfortable and distressed, and I feel very bad about it. Even if you choose not to accept my apology, please at least understand that I regret it and that I wouldn’t make the same choices if I was able to go back and have a second try. I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry’s not really expecting that, and for a second he forgets what words are. “It’s okay, Coop.” (It’s actually not, but not for the reasons Dale apparently thinks it isn’t.) “Sometimes you gotta go through shit to get the job done. It’s probably not that different from listening to what Jacques Renault said in the bar when you and Ed went undercover up there.”

“No, this was very different,” Dale argues softly, shaking his head. “Harry… I think this would be a good time… not the best time, but a good time… to confess that I’ve been aware of your feelings for me for some time, probably before you realized them yourself. It did play a minor part in why I asked for your help here, because I didn’t want the situation to end up where it did but I knew you would be able to accommodate the need for cover from prying eyes. The other reasons felt less malicious, since I understood anyone else would be too uncomfortable in that establishment to be an effective work partner. But at the moment it feels like I’ve taken advantage of you and possibly toyed cruelly with your emotions. Know that was never my intention.”

Harry can’t believe what he just heard. “You _knew?_ You knew the whole time?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I thought it would be better for you to approach the subject with me on your own terms. I didn’t anticipate this investigation or take into account how it would possibly affect our dynamic once I’d been informed of it.”

Harry shakes his head and sighs through his nose. “I was never gonna bring it up, Coop. I don’t date friends or coworkers.”

“I see.” Dale nods slowly. “That’s unfortunately in direct conflict with my own inclinations, in the majority of cases I’ll only attempt relationships with people I’m already on friendly and comfortable terms with.”

“Why does that even matter? You’re not trying to date me,” Harry points out. He’s proud of himself for keeping all but a tiny bit of his bitterness and longing out of his voice when he says it.

Dale, for some damn reason, smiles at him from the other bed. “I would if you’d let me, Harry.”

And Harry doesn’t know how to talk again, for a lot longer this time. It feels like he’s been reading a book with a plot twist that came out of nowhere, but experience has taught him that usually when that happens if he goes back and reads the book again he notices a bunch of things that would’ve told him what was going on if he’d just been paying close enough attention. So what were the signs he missed with Dale? He tries to think what they might be but nothing comes to him, so he just sits there and keeps being shocked for awhile.

Of course the first thing that comes to him is the consequences.

“Coop, we’d both probably get run out of town.”

“That thought occurred to me, but I don’t believe there would be such an extreme reaction. The majority of the people in Twin Peaks have good opinions of both of us. I understand your instincts towards caution, but from what I’ve been able to observe it’s likely unnecessary in this case.”

Dale’s a lot better at reading people than Harry or really any normal human being, so Harry really wants to believe him, but it’s hard. He’s also not sure this is actually happening, maybe someone put something in his drink at that gay bar and he’s not in touch with reality.

Harry rubs his face with his hands. “Can you give me a few minutes?”

“Alright.”

Dale disappears to also take a shower, and Harry doesn’t get very much thinking done because he’s too busy staring at the wall not believing anything he just heard come out of his friend’s mouth. Ever since they got themselves all disguised earlier he’s felt like he’s in the Twilight Zone and this really only made it worse just now.

Dale’s not gone for very long, and comes back out in his regular dress clothes but without the suit jacket. He’s shaved now, too, and finally looks like himself. It helps a lot to making things feel real again, especially when he clips his badge to his belt in a way that seems like he’s only doing it out of habit and not because he needs to. The beat-up Flyers snapback is tucked into Dale’s stuff, very lovingly, and this is possibly the only time Harry’s seen him get so sentimental about an inanimate object. There has to be a story there.

Dale stops on the floor about two and a half feet from where he’s sitting. “Harry, I’d like you to stand up if you don’t mind.”

Harry complies, but it’s mostly because he doesn’t really know what else to do - his other option is probably to just stay put and maybe argue some more. Dale reaches out but for once doesn’t make contact. His hands are just kinda there, palms facing up, like an offering or a question. It takes Harry a second to figure out what that question is, but he already knows the answer to it. He still hesitates a little before sliding his hands into Dale’s, and this earns him a bright and confident but very warm smile.

Harry’s almost positive he knows what’s next, but after what happened earlier he’s kind of afraid of it and he just _knows_ that’s probably showing up in his eyes, so he closes them even though he knows it’s too late and Dale already saw. Dale sees everything.

Hiding behind his own eyelids, Harry can still tell that Dale’s moving, inching in closer to him. There’s no more of that awful cologne - instead, Dale smells like Barbasol shaving cream and mint toothpaste and expensive but mild deodorant and the starch in his dress shirt. All of those things are pleasant, and Harry relaxes a little, because Dale smells like a person again, a very nicely dressed person who actually exists as part of Harry’s life instead of a guise that won’t draw attention at a seedy place.

Harry realizes that he’s been way overthinking everything, and as soon as he figures that out, it stops.

Breath lightly ghosts across his face, and then one word, in whisper form.

“Please?”

This time, Harry doesn’t hesitate first.

“Okay.”

And then Dale’s kissing him, but for real this time. It’s much more gentle, very tender, being patient. Harry enjoys it a lot more than he did earlier, and he rubs his thumbs across Dale’s knuckles while they kiss. Dale’s got really nice hands, and he’s such a great kisser, and Harry stops feeling guilty for the first time in months. He thought this was a problem, but it wasn’t… right now it seems a lot more like an inevitability, and Harry thinks he can be okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Why is Cooper a Flyers fan? Because I'm Canadian, so hockey.
> 
> I'm gonna be honest and say I don't really like this fic that much and I wrote it to get the idea to shut up. It happens sometimes. Hopefully readers like it more than I do.
> 
> All my Twin Peaks fics can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=127943&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&user_id=Aaron_The_8th_Demon).
> 
> Comments are welcome and encouraged if you have them.


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